


Manifesting Fate

by DraloreShimare



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, daemon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-20 00:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraloreShimare/pseuds/DraloreShimare
Summary: Force Sensitives of all measures exhibit their connection with the Force via the daemons that stay at their sides. And in the galaxy, none are as great or strong as that manifest to the Sensitives chosen by the Jedi and other Force Enclaves. But despite this, not everyone is as they seem.Daemon AU.





	Manifesting Fate

“Is...something wrong, Padawan?” Qui-gon eyed Anakin and his trailing daemon as they stumbled into the quarters the three of them and their daemons shared. He stood frowning in the archway of the kitchen; there was no reason for Anakin to be back here so early in the afternoon.

“Yeah.” He nodded, dazed. “I...I think I found the Chancellor's daemon.”

“But, we know his daemon. It's a harvestman.”

“I...”

“It isn't! We saw his proper one! It has the same aura!” Ytur curled her tail around Anakin's neck, nose twitching in her desert-rat form.

Qui-Gon glanced between the two, Anakin’s gaze firmly on the floor and Ytur’s on him and felt dread crawl up his spine.

“When?” He crouched, voice urgent.

“...maybe an hour ago. It... It's a hssiss.” Anakin blinked, his bright blue eyes far away.

“You're certain?” 

“Yes, Master.” His jaw tightened, and he nodded once, firmly.

“Alright. Follow me. We must see the Council.” Qui-Gon stood, long strides taking him down the hall rapidly until he heard the hurried patter of Anakin's footfalls. He paused, hand outstretched and dwarfing Anakin's when he took it.

Obi-Wan was supposed to have met with the Chancellor...soon? Not long ago? Qui-Gon felt along their bond, meeting only a questioning affection. He sent affection in return, along with a tendril of worry for Obi-Wan's safety. But no, his partner could handle himself, surely. As long as Palpatine was unaware and didn't yet consider the Jedi a threat.

At the Council door, a sentinel stopped them.

“The Council is debriefing. You'll have to wait your turn, Master Jinn.”

“This is important. An emergency.” 

Ytur chittered, darting over Anakin’s shoulders, tail lashing.

“I apologize, they should be finished shortly, and then you will be allowed entrance. But not before.”

“You don't understand!” Ytur raced to the floor, shifting her form up and up, until she stood on her hind legs, a krayt dragon as tall as the Sentinel. She growled, sending vibrations through the floor even as Anakin reached out for her.

“Ytur, don't.” He pressed his hand against her scaled side.

“But -”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “You will not impress a Sentinel that way. But you may annoy their own daemon.” He glanced to the other side of the door, at the saber-tooth canine that sat at attention, muscles tensed for action.

“Oh.” She deflated, then shifted smaller, until a fluff-tailed desert rat rested again at Anakin's feet.

“We will wait. Thank you.” Qui-Gon bowed shallowly, tugging Anakin to one of the hallway benches to sit.

Tiny paws tugged at his clothing and Ytur pressed herself against his cheek even as Anakin slouched into his side. 

“I'm sorry, Master.” The apology would have been stereo if they'd been sitting on opposite sides.

“You're worried, anxious.” Qui-gon wrapped an arm around Anakin's shoulders, tilting his head against Ytur’s tiny body. “Just remember, Padawan, to direct your energy where it will be most useful. And to wait to release it until it is needed. Breathe for me?”

Anakin took a deep breath. 

“There. Breathe in the flow of the Living Force. Re-direct your energy. Be mindful of your anxieties, but don't let them rule you.” He coached as Anakin continued his breathing. “I am worried as well. Obi-Wan should be meeting him. But so long as Palpatine doesn't view my partner as a threat, then he should be safe. So let go some of your alarm. Be alert, but not jumpy.”

Qui-Gon rubbed his thumb against the rough cotton of Anakin's tunic. In previous eras he might have added 'all will be well,’ but after Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship he avoided empty platitudes.

Minutes passed, Qui-Gon’s even breathing joining with Anakin’s and Ytur's, eyes closing.

Only to open when a pair of worn Jedi Knights exited the Council chamber.

“You may enter, Master, Padawan.” The Sentinel’s voice rang clearly in the hall.

“Many thanks,” Qui-gon answered as they rose and strode through the doors, his hand still on Anakin's shoulder, anchoring him.

“You bring urgent news, do you?” Yoda asked, his daemon, a dart frog, resettled himself on the back of Yoda’s chair.

“We do, Masters. Anakin has witnessed something and it was most urgent you be informed.” 

Anakin glanced up, taking a breath and a step forward at Qui-Gon's nod.

“Masters. I have seen the Chancellor's true daemon.” He swallowed. “It lives in quarters two levels below the Chancellor, or, it does when he is in office.”

“And how do you know this daemon is Palpatine's?” Mace asked, crossing his legs, his own daemon, a mongoose, sitting against the front of his chair. “Could it not be someone else's?”

“No.” Qui-gon smiled at the confidence in Anakin’s answer. “As I told Master Qui-gon, the Force signature of this daemon is the same as the one I can feel from the Chancellor.”

“But his is clearly with him at all times; the harvestman spider that, fittingly, crawls over his desk and person.” Shaak Ti shook her head. “What shape is this other daemon?”

“A hssiss.”

The Council Members stirred at that.

“Then it cannot possibly be Palpatine's daemon; such a creature is far too big considering his lack of talent and connection with the Force.”

“Masters, if what Anakin says is true, then likely he is so skilled with the Force that he is shielding himself. Very well, in fact.” He surveyed the Councilors and straightened, almost imperceptibly.

“I have felt something other from the Chancellor for some years, but had nothing concrete to investigate. With this finding of Anakin's, I'd like to petition the Council to investigate further.”

“Qui-Gon, I understand you operate differently since your daemon gave up its manifestation for you, but...”

“Mace, if anything, K’yin’s sacrifice set me closer to the Force. And you cannot deny that since Palpatine has stepped forward darkness has been gathering all the quicker.”

“True, this is.” Yoda frowned. “Much darkness and disorder these last years. Towards war, the galaxy moves.”

“But surely you don't believe that -” Mace started.

“Trained by the Sith the hssiss were. To hunt Jedi. Coincidence, I think not. But show our hand we cannot.”

“But if Palpatine is working for the Sith, what would he get by waiting?” Ki-Adi-Mundi cut in.

“A galaxy that trusts him. Perhaps including the Jedi. Lure your enemies into complacency, and then attack.” Qui-Gon’s eyes took in the ring of Councilors. “It would be especially effective if he were Sith himself. Once the galaxy trusted him, he could sow fear of the Jedi, and then...”

He spread his hands, trailing off and letting the outcomes imply themselves. None of those around him could do anything but consider what might happen. Perhaps it would drive them to action. Already, Adi Gallia’s expression had turned inward, her daemon’s eyes heavily lidded, possibly in conversation. He could hear murmurs from Depa and Eeth Koth, though the loaded expressions being exchanged were shouts of silence.

Qui-Gon settled a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, anchoring himself in the physical as his mind brushed against the calm that radiated from Obi-Wan.

“Much to consider have we. Padawan, you will remain in the temple. Shields you have, but control over your emotions you need. Best to avoid the Chancellor, hm?”

“Yes, Master Yoda.” Anakin bowed, his braid swaying. Ytur, clinging to his shoulder, lowered her own head.

“Take care you will as well, Qui-gon. Keep your Padawan safe. And your partner.”

“Of course.” He bowed.

“Thank you for informing us.” Mace nodded. “I only wish you had explained your intuition before.”

“Would you have believed me without further proof?”

“Qui-Gon.” Shaak Ti tilted her head. “You and Obi-wan, of all of us, have been closest to Dark users.”

“Ah, that’s a ‘perhaps,’ then.” He smiled wryly, bowing. “Good day, Masters.”

“Mm. Keep you apprised, we will.”

\---

“Master?”

“Yes, Padawan?” Qui-gon folded his hands into the arms of his robe.

“I know it’s bad that the Chancellor is hiding his actual daemon. And that he’s so far parted from it.” Anakin stroked Ytur where she sat on his shoulder. “And...and that it’s a hssiss. But...”

Do you really think Palpatine is a Sith?”

Qui-Gon opened his mouth, and hesitated, pausing in the hallway.

“Master?”

“As Jedi, we are taught to listen to our feelings, our intuitions. Because they’re often information sent from the Force.” Qui-gon took slow steps, continuing down the corridors towards their quarters.

“However...we may not always interpret them correctly.”

To be honest, Padawan, I'm afraid my personal feelings may be coloring my view. That's why it's important that the Council continue to investigate and be circumspect.” He glanced down. “And this is the one time you will hear me support their slow, plodding pace.”

“Are you going to tell Obi-Wan?” 

“Is there a reason not to?”

“Well. Only if he was going to worry more. But he's smart, so he probably wouldn't be as worried as I am.”

Qui-Gon palmed open the door to their quarters, Anakin trailing behind him.

“Anakin, do you believe I'm smart?”

“Well. Yes.” He plopped onto the couch in their sitting area.

“Then I should let you know, that I am worried.” He moved through to the kitchen, and Anakin heard the familiar sounds of tea being brewed. “Being intelligent doesn't mean being unafraid, it only means you don't allow your fear to control you. Besides that, you are a remarkably smart young man.” Qui-Gon paused in the archway connecting the rooms, sharing a smile.

“Thank you, Master. But I don't know if...” Anakin sighed, tugging off his boots and setting them neatly next to the couch.

“Know if?” Qui-Gon set a chipped brown mug in front of him.

“I’m smart enough for... I'm not as smart as you and Obi-wan.” He finally got out, hands flexing on the cushion. 

“If you had more knowledge than I or Obi-Wan, I think I would be more worried. After all, you don't appear to be in your thirties.” He blew on his tea gently. “Knowledge comes from experience, and that can only come from time. And not even Master Yoda has so much as to know everything.

“Worry as you need to. Just try not to let it control you. And if you do need something, I am here to help you. You _are_ my Padawan, after all.” He smiled, broad hands dwarfing the mug handle. “None of us expect you to know everything, or to be perfect.”

“Thank you, Master Qui-gon.” Anakin leaned into him.

“You're very welcome, Padawan.”

\---

Obi-Wan stirred at the feel of warm flesh against his.

“Qui?” 

The hand drew back from his shoulder, tugging at the sheets as he slipped into bed. “Yes.”

“Good.” He pried open one eye, watching him settle. “Where were you?”

“Letting my worries control me.”

Obi-Wan curled against him, head against Qui-gon's chest listening to the comforting beat. “You mean meditating.” And grinned at the chuckle he elicited.

“Yes. Meditating. Did Anakin tell you what transpired today?”

“He let me know he was worried. I pulled him into the salles for some kata work to calm him. He said... he'd discovered something, but to ask you more.”

Qui-Gon sighed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He stroked his hand through Obi-Wan's hair, his locks just past his shoulders these days, and normally pulled back into a nerf tail. 

With effort, he kept a distance in his voice. “It seems the Chancellor has a different daemon than he suggests. One he’s hiding away from his quarters.” 

“The Council?”

“Knows. I...admit. I, perhaps unwisely, pulled Anakin into the chambers today so he could explain what he saw and sensed. That's why he's stressed.”

Obi-Wan stroked Qui-Gon’s beard, silvering more each year. “We can help him work through that. He’s not much more volatile than I was at his age.”

“Hah. True enough, my Obi-Wan.”

“Mm.” He shifted, cuddling infinitesimally closer. “What is it? The daemon he’s hiding?”

“A hssiss.” He watched Obi-Wan; calm, level-headed Obi-Wan, who just paused and then asked, in the detached manner he was losing -

“Has that affected your reaction?” 

Qui-Gon sighed. “I think it has helped cement my suspicions. I asked the Council to investigate, in whatever manner.”

“I trust your intuition, Qui.”

“Mm. Well, at any rate, Anakin won't be playing diplomatic page again soon.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, raising his head. “Is _that_ what he was doing.”

“Well, before he was distracted.”

He braced himself above Qui-Gon, eyes flitting over his face, taking in the familiar face ill-defined by the neon and sodium lights of Coruscant. “I can understand being distracted.” He brushed silver-streaked hair back, tangling on the pillows.

Qui-Gon snorted, amused. “Can you?”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I'll even demonstrate.”

Another kiss, to the broken bridge of his nose, before he drew a kiss from Qui-Gon’s lips, pleased when he was kept close by careful hands in his hair.

“Mmm...” He sighed as they parted. “I feel you’ve been distracted by my demonstration.” Obi-Wan settled his body on Qui-Gon's, frotting his erection idly between their bodies, feeling Qui-Gon's against his thigh.

“Brat.” He gripped Obi-wan's arse, and groaned as his hips thrust upwards. “How can you make me hard this quickly.”

“Experience.” He laughed and nipped at Qui’s throat.

“Aye. And damned gorgeous.”

That earned another chuckle from Obi-wan, and another deep kiss, each tasting the other, teasing back and forth with deft tongues. Their languid pace continued, punctuated by low moans, until neither could stand it any longer. They fumbled for the bottle on the bedside table and Qui-Gon slicked their erections before taking them both in hand, watching Obi-wan groan and thrust above him through heavy lidded eyes.

When orgasm pulsed through their bodies and their bond, it was together, and both stiffened then trembled in the aftermath.

Qui-gon laid his head against Obi-wan’s shoulder, a reverse of their previous position. His rangy body curled so that their legs meshed.

“I love you.” He wrapped an arm over Obi-wan’s chest and kissed his stubbled jaw, soaking in the satiation and happiness that seeped through their bond.

Obi-Wan grinned, “I love you, too.”

***

Qui-Gon slid awake, blinking at the red numbers of their chrono in the darkness. Obi-Wan pressed protectively against his back, one arm slung over his waist and warm nose smashed against his hair.

Rrl’m sprawled at the foot of the bed, ears twitching in time with the dreams she shared with Obi-Wan. Her whiskers brushed his ankle again, and he pulled his foot back under the sheets.

Reassured, he let the constant of Coruscant's night traffic lull him back to sleep.


End file.
